


Ju'rohn, muthsera

by MegaSocky



Series: When a door closes, a sky rips open—call your local adventurers [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: I changed archive warning but forgot if any of them applied just lmk, M/M, Nord and Dunmer duo but its also Twilight 4, Prologue, slow burn? I think, sorry literally made them this way because of a one-off prompt tht got rlly developed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaSocky/pseuds/MegaSocky
Summary: The Vestige may be the star in an other story, but this one observes as a dunmer rises, using what he can to achieve his goals.
Series: When a door closes, a sky rips open—call your local adventurers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155527
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

“We’ve sent and received Nord diplomats all over the alliance, and yet they’re still divided and fickle about letting us into Skyrim.”

“They are dealing with their own inner political strife. The wolf against the bear, as always. I would have preferred we allied with Solitude, but the Skald-king has been more cooperative…”

The dunmers continued to tap their chins, pretending as if they had an idea they’re developing in their heads. In reality, none of them were sure what steps to take next. After all, the Nords had a reputation for promising a strong ally, then finding out only half of the Nords actually acknowledged the alliance with the Ebonheart Pact. House Hlaalu tried to expand their holdings near Morrowind and Skyrim’s border, but they needed more assistance from others as the other Houses competed their holdings.

A younger dunmer brushed his hands up his hair, fiddling with the white streaks that fell onto his eyes as he tried to read the long list or reports from scouts in the area. Skimming over the documents, his eyes caught upon discoveries of ancient ruins or artifacts found by the local Mages’ Guild. 

“And what of you, son of House Ire? You have been rather quiet.” A graveled voice called. The whole room turned their eyes onto the young dunmer. The boy gulped, and he quickly fixed his position. He turned his head towards his father, the Urman of House Ire, and he gave a stern look. 

“M-me? Well, have you considered, uh-” He ran his eyes over the document and landed on a report of a Nord. A hero that saved the island of Bleakrock Isle after he was found wrecked ashore, who was now quickly making an alliance with smaller authorities in the Pact. He realized he absent-mindedly blurted the name of the Nord hero, because after he raised his head from the documents, he found the council of Dunmers speaking amongst themselves trading the name. 

“Not a terrible idea, Ire. We can see potential uses for this hero in speaking to the Nords, and perhaps beyond the Pact. From these reports, it’s terrifyingly impressive how he has gained an audience with several of the Skald-king’s most important.” 

“We must send one of our own to accompany him.”

“What do you think, Urman Ire? Would your son take this opportunity to stop being an embarrassment?” Suppressed snickers ran through the room. 

“Yes. Send Stefur to accompany this hero, and perhaps I would even consider him a member of my house.” The lord turned his head away from the lower seat Stefur sat in. He furrowed his brow and ignored any pity that went his direction. 

-  
“Journal, ink, papyrus, compass, soul gems… wait, where is my flask?” Stefur twirled around his room. A dunmer lady hurried into Stefur’s room with a flask and a bag emitting a savory scent. 

“Please be careful on your journey. There have been rumors of bandit groups in the area. I packed dried plums for you. Make sure you get enough food and water.”

“I will be fine. I did not get trained for situations like this for no reason.” Stefur packed the remaining items into his bag, which was mostly heavy from the encyclopedia he carried. He hung his stave on his back and examined his map. “The reports said the hero was in Davon’s Watch. It would not take me too long to reach the settlement.”

“Do not be reckless and stay on the path. As much as your father does not admit it, he would be devastated if his only son is lost.” The woman pecked Stefur’s cheek. 

Stefur rarely left the building of House Hlaalu since his own house merged with them to help with the invasion. He always wanted to leave to explore on his own, but the constant scribs chasing after him was not pleasant, especially the charred smell they gave off after he threw a few fire spells at them.  
His heart began to pound the more he headed towards his destination as aggressive creatures began to multiply. He kept up a ward and hurried. He must have been delirious because the landscape changed from a slightly quiet wilderness to a war zone. Immediately, arrows flung towards him, and he hoped he had enough mana to keep his ward up. Stefur danced around the rogue trying to flank his body. He kept getting overwhelmed with the hits from all sides. He definitely got a bruise somewhere. He yells, charging all his energy into a fire blast. A shock-wave of flames seared through the surrounding enemies. In the distance, a golden light shielded a figure from the flames.

“Mara’s tits, you’re insane!” The accent sounded provincial. Stefur looked above his arms when the flames went out. The figure spoke out again, “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous to be frolicking here right now.” A white-haired Nord rushed towards Stefur’s side. He shielded his eyes and gasped, “Wait- is your name Sorley Eiraled?”

“I’m getting around, aren’t I?”

“Yes? I mean, I hope you received a courier telling you about the partnership with one of the Houses here for diplomatic reasons. You did accept the offer, so of course you did-”

“Don’t hurt yourself. I’m pleased to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Stefur Ire. From House Ire.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope you know how to fight.” Sorley parried an incoming flank. Stefur stared wide-eyed. He’s going to get shanked if they don’t leave soon. “Let’s get you out of here. Sorry you had to hunt me down all this way.” 

More merchant carts passed by him, and Stefur took note of the exotic smells that wafted past them. Sorley was leaning back in the cart as if he was happy with himself after escaping the battle he caught himself in. Stefur sat silently, wanting to say something to break the silence. He’s used to speaking to people. He’s a diplomat for Azura’s sake! Even then, he couldn’t help feeling anxious. He never spoke to people outside of House Hlaalu’s manor and the training grounds.  
The inn was crowded from the traders taking a rest stop in Davon’s Watch and adventurers all around. Stefur took Sorley to the little hallway where a few hookah machines and snoozing guests laid. If Sorley isn’t familiar with dunmer culture, Stefur might as well introduce him to it to help him get the feelings of the type of person Sorley is.  
Sorley sat down onto a floor cushion. “I hope you’re not tired from the trip here. I had to find a lead for an antiquity here for one of the archmages here to study, but I’m not familiar with Morrowind in general.”

“Oh? Where are you from?” Stefur asked. He knew about pleasantries, at least, but talk of antiquities caught his attention.

“From Skyrim, in one of the more rural places.” Sorley said and rubbed his upper-arm, “Aye, but Morrowind… never dreamed of leaving Skyrim, so I’m afraid I don’t know much about the rest of Tamriel.”

“Well, lucky for you, these kinds of things are something I’m very familiar with. Also, I’d love to help with your antiquity-thing!” Stefur drew his mouth shut to stop himself from getting too excited.

“I’m glad to hear it. What about you? Are you from outside of Morrowind?”

“An outlander? No way. I was born near Seyda Neen, under House Hlaalu, but my family offered our holdings to get a sponsorship in the Great Houses...”

Sorley stared back with a confused look on his face. Of course, he wouldn’t know anything about dunmer politics. Stefur sighed, “I’m from House Ire. We’re a noble line of battlemages and diplomats, but we’re joined under the Great House Hlaalu, one of the Great Houses that govern Morrowind… does that make sense?”  
Sorley cocked his head, “I barely know much about my own politics. I don’t think I really caught on-”

“If my family had a fief, and we allowed a jarl of a hold to use, the jarl would allow us to be made a lord by his own decree. Does that make sense?”

“Aye, I think so.” Sorley still scratched his stubble, and Stefur only dragged his hand down his face. “It does not matter. What is important is that I am at your disposal if you need any assistance regarding formalities or any personal quest you are going through. House Hlaalu is interested in you.”


	2. Waxing Gibbous

Gasping, waking, the sound of water flowing against Stefur’s ear and pouring into his own mouth. The sound of water sounded off, sickly splashing. The smell of iron filled his nose as he gulped down the dark water. He felt like he slept and woke up a billion times, but he’s still trapped in a dream. A figure coaxed him back out of the water, commanding him to make a swear, to feed and relish the new power. He didn’t understand, but he found himself prowling through the tunnels, tracking unassuming bandits before he made his move.

He woke up, for real this time, near the old cemetery. He groaned, rubbing his neck, and lifted himself, grabbing the ledge of the old shrine. What was he doing out here again? Dim memories fade into his head, and his cheeks flushed. Right, a quick hook up with someone he met at a tavern. Left without a word, how charming. 

His hands touched the soft bruise on his neck, a scab now forming over whatever had happened. The kiss was intense, resulting in some biting, which Stefur didn’t mind, but it still hurts like a flaming nix. His eyes finally cleared up from the headache, it was still night, and the moon barely peaked above the cliffs lining the horizon. The night’s still young, but how long was he really asleep for? Wait, when did he fall asleep? He didn’t remember much after the violent kiss, but… oh, fuck. Sorley. Stefur quickly gathered his wits, pulling the robes loosely hanging off him over his chest. His head still radiated a pain, and he couldn’t remember where he left the Nord. My father is going to kill me. He only left his House for a few weeks, and he already had gotten himself in trouble. A new record for Stef, and he hadn’t ran out and done this since he was in his teens.

He barely remembered where in Oblivion Sorley was. He shielded his eyes and peered through the bright lanterns, almost as if rays of sunlight bled out of every building. The migraine was horrible. When he closed his eyes to give himself a break, he saw faint beats of red surround him, and he would shoot his eyes open in panic. This was strange, and he needed to get back to an inn, quick.

Every sense in him felt heightened, hearing every rabble fill his ears, laughter sounding as if directed at him. Quick shouts filled his head, calling him a monster, monster, mONSTER, MONSTER. What did he do? Did someone catch his act in the cemetery? Was his outfit inappropriate? Did someone feed him nightshades and some moon sugar? Is the world chastising him for losing Sorley? He’s such a failure, a real monster. He regrets being a terrible son, for not listening to his father. The world was crumbling around him. He felt something in his body pull in a direction. He needed to get out of all the light shining onto him, revealing himself to the crowd around him, seemingly pointing their fingers to reveal to anyone that he’s awful. 

He didn’t realize he found his way towards Sorley, which he bumped quite heavily into. “You charge like a bull, Ire. Is something wrong?” His voice was always soft. So soft. The heavy provincial accent was so strong when he was soft. Stefur’s hands gripped onto Sorley’s forearms. He dug his head into Sorley’s stomach.

“I want to go home. Let us go home.” He cradles himself in Sorley’s arms. Sorley says something he didn’t catch and then pulls away. The ground below him shifts, and he panics. He found himself hurling on the ground, Sorley behind him rubbing his back. There was so much water running down his face. He felt pathetic, what was he doing? Why is he crying?  
“I think you’ve had too much to drink, lad. I’ll get you back to the inn when you feel like walkin’.” Sorley coos. Stefur wipes his mouth with whimpers escaping his throat. He felt like bawling, but he wasn’t distraught in particular. His emotions were everywhere, something seriously was wrong, and Sorley must’ve caught on that Stefur wasn’t intoxicated. Sorley lifted Stefur, helping him lean into his side.

Stefur’s mind stopped racing and his thoughts stopped running a mile-a-minute as Sorley rubbed his back. “If I had any salves on me, I could ease the pain a bit. It helped me when I felt ill.” Sorley continued to press circles into the nape of Stef’s neck. He tried to respond back, but his mouth only gave out a garbled response. Sorley shushes him, “You don’t have to talk. I’ve got you.” Stefur closed his eyes. The sense of paranoia left him as he felt more grounded back to Nirn. Sorley’s definitely helping with that, at least. He felt like he could control his tongue again and tried to speak. 

Stefur definitely felt better now. He hesitated to speak, feeling awfully embarrassed to resume with life, but he felt bad if he let Sorley stay up to continue soothing him. “Ah, I am sorry for my behavior. What occurred confused me too.” He tried to sit up, but Sorley kept him down to rest.

“What are you apologizing for? You just ran into me, crying the life out of yourself. There’s no shame in that, but I’m concerned if something happened.”

“Nothing happened, at least not something for you to be concerned about. I just felt like… everything shifted, as if I was in the realm of the King of Madness himself.” Stefur didn’t want to tell Sorley about the cemetery quite yet. He’s already embarrassed himself in front of his new companion, it would be the cherry on top for Sorley to leave if he realizes Stefur’s side-hobbies. Sorley didn’t prod him any further, anyways, and he only wished Stefur to feel better in the morning and took off to his own bed in the room. Stefur felt exhausted, but he was terrified of going back to sleep. He didn’t remember if he did fall asleep eventually anyway.

A week had passed with not much happening. They’ve run into a few delves to retrieve documents a general requested, but Stefur stayed more quiet than usual during their short ventures. He felt hungry all the time, and when Sorley went off to retire, Stefur would sneak his way back down to the inn to gorge on more food, but he never felt satiated from anything. Also, he was usually a morning person, but found himself exhausted during the day, but too anxious to sleep at night with the sudden burst of energy. Sorley had been acting uneasy, too, and Stefur doubted it was because of their mission, which had been a relative breeze. He tapped the tip of his quill on the rim of the inkpot. Sorley received so many letters, it amazed him how nonchalant he was about what requests he decided to take, seeing as many of them reeked of passive-aggressive threats if Sorley didn’t respond soon. He rubbed his forehead. There’s so much to do.

“If you are free tomorrow, I would not mind if you wanted to tag along with me to finish some small tasks I needed to finish. It is only a visit to the temple and a few supply runs.” Stefur examined his agenda again. The visit to the temple was intended to be his occasional alms giving to the spirits of his ancestors, but he was feeling as if he needed to see a priest of Arkay for something he had a hunch over. 

“Sorry, I’d have to turn ya down. There’s some matters I need to attend to myself, but I would’ve loved to help out some other day.” Stefur was surprised Sorley declined, but it wasn’t a big deal. Stefur felt better now, at least he didn’t feel like he did those few days ago. He can do this alone, and he trusted Sorley not to abandon him.

[Sorley's POV]  
“Trust me. Don’t go to Cyrodiil. I got caught up in a civil battle, lost me stuff, and returned to home finding out they sold it to some rich bum because I didn’t pay dues in time. I- I was stuck in damn Cyrodiil!”

“That’s how it is, unfortunately. You can stay here for as long as you need to, if you’ve got the coin, of course...” 

Sorley scraped up the last of his plate, making sure he didn’t leave any crumbs. He watched the patrons and innkeeper continue to squabble amongst themselves. 

“Oi, you there! Sorley, innit?” A young bosmer caught Sorley’s attention. She had the appearance of a general adventurer, but his eyes drew to the Undaunted insignia drawn on the cape on her shoulders. “Gilirion heard of you, vanquishing the keep in Eastmarch. Must’ve been cold, eugh.” The bosmer chucks a purse into Sorley’s hands. “That’s from Gilirion himself. Your share of coin for completing the pledge, good day. Wait- also,” she hands a letter, “a courier stopped me to hand this to you. I’m not sure how… it knew I was looking for you, but it must be magic-imbued. Couldn’t open it myself, sorry for prying. Well, I’ll see you back at Mournhold, Sorley.” The bosmer takes her leave. 

Sorley scratches his arm, looking at the letter. He cracked off the wax seal with ease. He stared at the letter, glossing over the scribbles. He couldn’t understand anything, there weren't any pictures or symbols that could help indicate the contents of the letter. “Maybe I’ll ask Ire to read this…” He hastily folds it into his pockets, leaves gold on his table for the innkeeper, and decides to take his leave. “Where is that lad anyway?”

He almost tripped over himself when a loud impact hit his back. His immediate instinct was to raise his hands in defeat to defuse whatever drunkard wanted to brawl him, but his eyes looked down to a familiar dunmer on his knees. “You charge like a bull, Ire. Is something wrong?” Sorley asked. He hasn’t travelled with Stefur for too long, but from his observations, Stefur usually kept to himself, occasionally speaking to Sorley about matters such as where they were travelling next and to keep him updated when Sorley leaves to deal with side requests townsfolk requested his help with, which Stefur thought hindered their process of needing to visit the Pact Leader. 

Stefur wriggled into Sorley’s arms. Sorley lets him cling onto him. He wasn’t looking too well. “I want to go home. Let us go home.” Stefur croaked. 

“Home? You mean the inn?” Sorley immediately jumped away hearing Stefur gag on a bile. He frowned, trying to rub Stefur’s back. “I think you’ve had too much to drink, lad. I’ll get you back to the inn when you feel like walkin’.” He caught Stefur choking on his own sobs, tense under Sorley’s touch. He must’ve been overwhelmed all of the sudden. It’s best for him to get out of this place. Sorley waited for Stefur to calm down, staying by his side, until he propped Stefur’s arm on his shoulders. Stefur took the prompt to start walking.

Sorley was glad the streets were sparse. He could imagine the anxiety that Stefur must be experiencing. This felt familiar, the way he’s acting. Sorley hoped it was just too much alcohol or a sudden fever. If it was what he had a hunch about, it couldn’t be good at all. They slowly made their way back to their rooms in the inn. Sorley immediately laid Stefur down in his bed onto his stomach, propping his head side-ways so he could breath. “I’ll try to ease the pain. Is it okay if I take your robe off?” Sorley waited for Stefur to respond. He lets out a murmur, and Sorley pulls his robes down to his lower back, checking for signs of Stefur to tell Sorley to stop. 

He seemed to be fine, and Sorley resumed. The nape helped the most, where most of the nerves meet up to the mind. Sorley paused when he saw Stefur’s neck. A purplish bump stained it, a net of veins contrasting against the bruised skin. It looked a bit infected, and Sorley felt bad he didn’t purchase any medication. It’s probably late for any apothecaries to be open.

Pressing onto it gently, giving it a bit of a massage to stimulate some sensation, could help him feel present. It should calm him down, enough that the transition would be less uncomfortable. Sorley remembered it like it wasn’t such a distant memory. “If I had any salves on me, I could ease the pain a bit. It helped me when I felt ill.” He blurted out. 

“Ah, who taught you that?” Stefur slurred. Sorley hesitated for a moment. Stefur’s probably a little bit delirious to care if Sorley gave any answers.

“You don’t have to talk. I’ve got you.” He shushes.

Stefur definitely smelled unusual. It wasn’t an odor, Stefur was particular about his personal hygiene, but Sorley definitely noticed a change. He was nervous. It’s been a few days already, and they hadn’t stopped in any cities, in case it was what Sorley thought it was. His attention kept going back to the moons looming over them in the clear sky, like an omen of doom. He didn’t feel well himself, either. 

Sorley felt bad declining to help Stefur out. Stefur did a lot of work when Sorley wasn’t looking, constantly writing letters between his administrators, and he took it upon himself to do any diplomatic work on behalf of Sorley. Sorley only swung his sword around at different caves or forts infested with bandits, he wished he could do something to let Stefur know he wasn’t trying to bear all the work to him.

“Maybe later, I’ll come along with whatever you need me to come along for. You’ve been working hard.” Sorley smiled. Stefur beamed back,

“Wellll… I had personal matters to deal with, relating to potentially gaining a hold on an acre used for crop food production. You do not have to attend but having you and your status as a leverage could help with negotiations…” Stefur’s proposition didn’t sound too difficult. Just stand and look pretty and reiterate anything Stefur asks him to repeat. 

“When is this?” Sorley asked.

“Expect in the next day or two, depending on how long it would take the carriage to the location to meet us in Kragenmoor.” Sorley gulped, and he looked towards the sky, the two moons slightly faded in the near-evening sky. It was almost full, and one could mistake it to be, but it made him grow nervous as he looked at it once more. He planned that he would be fine by then, hopefully. For now, Sorley wanted to be alone, in case his predictions were wrong. He couldn’t take the silence for granted again. He needed to keep everyone safe.


	3. Full Moon

Something smelled good nearby. Stefur was looking around the farm plot, but he was growing a bit hungry. Helvor, the owner of the farm, did offer to host a dinner using their own produce. Stefur did not mind the complementaries, but Sorley was unusually insistent on leaving as soon as possible, especially when food was involved in the trade.

"Our livestock has been found dead each day, and Gregor thinks vampires are about from the wound marks. It’s not something to worry over, of course. We have been diligent in warding off those blood-suckers." 

"Vampires, huh? Tamriel has been going crazy these days…" Sorley commented, observing the architecture of the room. It reminded him of a mushroom.

"No worries. Someone will probably send armigers after them." Stefur waved his hands, “Otherwise, my friend here is good with dealing with nuisances.” 

_ Vampires _ . The word seethed like poison from the tongue. A poison that tainted his entire legacy in what menial history Stefur's going to be written down upon. ‘Stefur Ire, local villain and village terrorizer! Ate babies and your cats.’ He could already imagine it, with a disgusting recreation of his visage.

Whatever, it’s nothing to worry about now. Stefur followed the scent trail towards a pen. He could hear squeaking in the corner, and he gave a noise of disgust. He had been feeding himself mice blood for the past day, and as much as it disgusted him, it helped satiate the hunger a tiny bit. It’s not like the temple helped him, either way. The moment he tried to enter a temple, he felt an intense burning sensation and felt the urge to leave immediately. His hunch had been proven right, though. When he curiously drank the blood of some small animals, with a bit of disgust, he felt the hunger sedate, just a little bit, like drinking a small drop of cool water when parched.

Several barks and a terrified scream caught his attention. When Stefur went to investigate, he found a dead woman on the ground. He thought for a moment… she was already killed. It wouldn’t hurt to...

Stefur wiped his mouth. He heard a huff, and when he looked up, he didn’t expect himself to be face to face with a wolf. Its soft, blue eyes hid behind a layer of urgency and the need to attack, to feed. Stefur quickly swung out his staff, drawing out a trail of flames to try and scare off the beast. He's not the type of person who would catch and release creatures, but he knew his boundaries when facing off a werewolf. He hoped it would be intimidated and flee.

“Get on with it, you!” Stefur warned, but the beast stood still, watching his every move. It knows he was bluffing. It gruffs, grabbing his staff from his hands and running away. “Oh, you little-” 

"What's going on out there?" Helvor shouted behind him. He must have heard the commotion. Stefur realized he was standing next to a dead body, alone, and he didn’t have time for questioning.

“Apologies, sera, but we might need to hold off that dinner for a moment. I will be back before you know it.” Stefur took a quick bow and ran off towards the direction the werewolf went.

Stefur wished Sorley was here. He was already bent down, catching his breath. The moment of break allowed him to see any forms of life near his vicinity, which was a new skill he discovered he could do after his affliction. He resorted to using a clairvoyance spell instead. Magic was a more comfortable skill to use, anyway. 

The magical trail burned a gentle light on the ground, glowing brighter where recent tracks were made. Stefur must have been close to where the werewolf had stopped. 

“Gods, this damn job never gets easier.” Stefur kicked up some dirt as he followed the trail. “‘Yes, Stefur, just get our name out there. It’s good for the economy to be friends with the other people.’ Be friends with the others  _ my ass _ ! If another Argonian offers their erect spine, I will show them my erect-” 

A noise behind him stops him in his tracks. The clairvoyance spell was blinding, and Stefur readied a fireball in his hands. He didn’t react fast enough. The beast lunged towards Stefur, throwing them both down a small pit hidden by some foliage. 

It halted, jumping back onto its four legs. It threw Stefur off its back. Stefur quickly scrambled onto his feet, preparing another spell to attack the werewolf. 

It began to whimper, its ears pointed down, and its tail between its legs. This was unusual. Stefur had no interest in finding out, so he turned to flee, but the wolf pounced in front of him. Stefur hesitated. 

If he didn’t move, the werewolf would leave him alone, right? Was that even a wolf thing? Isn’t there a sentient person behind werewolves? The beast kept staring intensely into Stefur’s ruby eyes. It was strange. The soft, blue eyes in the werewolf almost reminded him of… 

“Sorley?” Stefur blurted out. The more he looked, the more the dots kept connecting in his head. The beast barks a light, playful bark at Stefur and licks his hands, which he put up as a sign of caution. “No, no, no, you couldn’t be… If you are… oh b’vhek. If you are Sorley, bark twice and lick my left hand.” 

The beast does what Stefur commanded. It stuck its tongue out of the side of its mouth, turning its head to look at Stefur inquisitively. “Oh, Sorley, you absolute scuttlehead…” Stefur scratched the back of his ears, still a bit cautious. “You could have told me! I could have canceled this whole meeting if it were to interfere with… this. Well, what is done has been done, as they say. What, can you… turn back? Pretty please?” Stefur pleaded. Sorley turns his head.

“You can understand me, can you? Or am I just talking to myself? That would be embarrassing.” Sorley paced behind a tree, and Stefur cringed when he heard a loud squelching noise, followed by a human-like panting. He slowly peeked over, seeing Sorley in a layer of blood… and also nude, holding Stefur’s staff.

“Sorry about that, lad. Had to let off pent-up bloodlust, but don't worry about it. Can you lend me your scarf-thing, though? It’s kind of chilly.”

Stefur exchanged the cloth draped around his shoulders for his staff and looked away as Sorley wrapped it around himself like a toga. 

“So, a werewolf, huh?” Stefur gulped. “I do not fancy them in particular.”

“Fancy is one way to put it, Ire.” Sorley wiped some blood off with the cloth, which made Stefur cringe. “And you’re one of those blood-suckers?”

"Apparently.” Stefur spat. “It was a recent affliction. I tried to get it looked at by a priest, but I got caught up in all the work.”

“I could’ve covered some things for you. I’m not on a schedule, at least as far as swinging my sword goes. Would this interfere with your side of things?”

“‘Would it interfere’-? Of course, it damned well,  _ ru yi malyisk serpul _ ! I will be eternally exiled or else die by the hands of an Ordinator.” Sorley raised his hands up in defense. Stefur knitted his brows and sighed. “ _ Diru edur bahr'zuil oshun mugadnich _ … ”

"Pardon?”

"There is nothing we can do about it, now except to keep going until someone finds out. Let us go.” 

Before they could climb out of the pit, Sorley wrapped his arm around Stefur, catching him by surprise. “I should've seen the signs. You really never ate, unless it was a bloodied meat. The look of hunger in your eyes. I know the feeling. It's okay." He felt Stefur struggle out of his grasp, and he let Stefur go, apologizing. "I know this hurts. It'll seem like you’re no longer a person or someone to be valued, but you’re still you. You’re always going to be you."

Stefur shifted his eyes before leaning into Sorley's chest. Sorley felt him shudder and a sigh. "I'm here for you, Ire."

  
  


When the two returned, they noticed Buoyant Armigers patrolling the area, along with the influx of Hlaalu merchants. “They must have gotten the word pretty quick.” Stefur comments.

"About the dogs?"

"And vampires."

"Well, we better hope we can make it home safe, heh." Sorley rubbed his hands together, "Anyways, didn't I hear there was a dinner to be hosted?"

"Yes, but-" 

A voice called out to the two. It was Helvor. "I thought you got yourselves killed, leaving like that. The Armigers are looking for the beasts, so you shouldn't worry your souls over it... Aren't you a little cold?" Helvor raised his brow towards Sorley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N:  
> ru yi malyisk serpul - by my cursed tongue  
> Diru edur bahr'zuil oshun mugadnich - There is nothing we can do (sorry if i got the verb ‘is’ wrong couldnt find it except in an example sentence)
> 
> REF: https://casualscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Dunmeri_language#Set_Expressions


	4. Doggie Nightmares

_ “Sorley! Sorley! Can you walk me to the school-house? I hear howling again.” _

_ “I thought the tutor was coming today.” _

_ “It’s been hooours. I think the wolves scared her off too.” _

_ “Then we’re stuck here, also. It’s a free day for you, ain’t it? Why don’t you go play in the fields? Just stay where I can see you.” _

_ “Okay! Please don’t leave.” _

_ Please don’t leave. _

Shrieks came from everywhere, and Sorley would’ve ignored it, saying it’s just some big cat crying in the distance. This time, he definitely wasn’t near any mountains or even on Nirn. 

_ “Please, don’t leave, Sorley. We were just about to have dinner.” _

_ “I shouldn’t bother your family. I’ll eat outside-” _

_ “Nonsense! You’re a part of our family, now. Come on, the lass’s waiting on ya.” _

Sorley always heard about daedras and how they meddled with the lives of mortals. He never took them seriously, assuming that they’re just fantasies made up to scare children into acting modestly. He wouldn't have imagined himself, stuck in a prison where the chill stung his cheeks and stomach, yet the strange blue embers from below charred his feet. 

_ “Don’t leave, Sorley.” _

_ “I can’t- you’re spoken for.” _

_ “It’s not that! You’re always gone when we all wake up. Where are you going?” _

_ “It’s none of your business.” _

_ “Sorley.” _

A robed figure beckoned him to follow, one he’d assume was a part of the Mages’ Guild, inviting him to a location where he was to meet his next lead. When he entered, the gagged victim threw him off guard before he met a blow to his head. It only stung, but he still had his wits to pommel the attacker behind him and transform into a werewolf, letting out a howl that stunned those around him. He tried to make his escape but then faced a strange sort of magic mixed with toxic fumes. He felt himself choke. Probably wolfsbane or belladonna. Later, he found himself chained in a row shuffling down towards a mysterious altar.

_ Over the fields, there was nothing left. Ashes covered the ground like snow, almost to the point you could’ve mistaken this part of Skyrim as Solstheim.  _

A riot was definitely occurring. Sorley saw several people scamper by, some he thought were draugrs. He screamed for help, but no one stopped. 

Eventually, a tall, blonde woman stops by the cell. 

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. We've got no time to explain.” She didn’t hesitate to break both the cage doors and Sorley's shackles with an ax.

Sorley choked out something. His throat was dry.

“You’re talking to me? Sorry, don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m Lyris Titanborn.”

“Sorley.” He stood up, rubbing his wrists gently. He had been crying, and he didn’t realize until he saw the furrow on Lyris’s face. “I think I’m going to be okay by myself. Are there others?”

“A lot more. I’m breaking these cells where I can, helping people as I go, but you should get to safety. Just follow where everyone is running.” With that, Sorley never saw the woman again.

  
  


Panicked individuals pushed past Sorley, and a strong push made him teeter on the rim of the portal. He shouldn't have looked down. He gasped at the bottomless pit. The arm he held onto slowly left his grasp as he watched the foreign red-hair and her companion disappear, somewhere out of Oblivion. He had no choice but to follow if he wanted to escape.

" _Sorley._ _Sorley!_ _Gods_ , wake up, you lout." 

Sorley coughed as he inhaled the water that dribbled off his face. Stefur stood with a bucket in hand and dark bags under his eyes. He didn't look happy.

“You kept making so much noise all night I could not even sleep a wink.”

“Do vampires even sleep during the night?” Sorley cocked his head. Stefur groaned and rolled his eyes,

“Whatever, even a calming spell could not hold you down. What has gone into you?”

“It’s just doggie nightmares.” Sorley sat up from his bed. He pulled over a tunic and a coat and drank the last of whatever liquid was left in the mug on the end table.

“Wait, where are you going?” Stefur stopped Sorley in his tracks.

“I just need to take a short walk. I’ll be back.”   
  


“P-please, don’t go.” Stefur blurted. He coughed into his hands.

“You just-”

“I know I did, but quit leaving every morning. Seeing you gone from the room at such early hours makes me think I left you behind in the previous city sometimes.” Stefur pulled at his tunic’s rim, “I would rather not be chased down by my House, again, for losing someone important to them. Please, just stay here for today. We are not in a particularly safe area.”

Sorley wavered, “I will.”

Stefur said a few things Sorley ignored, but Stefur ended up returning to bed, saying he wanted to get a quick nap in for a beauty-sleep. 

Stefur peeked open one eye when he heard the door close. Throwing himself off his bed, he found himself alone in their room. 

**Author's Note:**

> Source for all the dunmeri: https://www.imperial-library.info/content/hrafnirs-languages-nordic#Dunmeris 
> 
> I would've used Ald Dunmeri but there's like 0 info on tht XoX  
> If there's future mentions of it I mostly likely grabbed it from there or on the wikias :o maybe even translations would be put here if I constructed sentences, but who knows.  
> Soz if my dunmer lore is off btw I'm going off fanon/personal headcanon for somethings cuz idk... bark bark bark
> 
> Anyway collab fic w kvbelleza. You'll see what the collab part is somewhat later :)


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